


Fear

by kmc995



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Attacks, Blood, Fear, Gen, Pain, Shadows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-23
Updated: 2012-12-30
Packaged: 2018-01-08 21:37:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1137658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kmc995/pseuds/kmc995
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now that the children knew of his existence, it was only a matter of time before he had enough fuel to break free from his prison. Seeing is believing, after all. Already, he could smell the fear pouring off the weak little pests; The Guardians were fools to assume their charges would go unscathed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Festering

**Author's Note:**

> I started this a while ago after watching The Rise of the Guardians. I became unhealthily obsessed with Jack Frost. Haha -- I will probably not finish this, but I might if people want me to. I'd probably just end up redoing the entire thing, though. I'm not too fond of my work here or where I had it heading...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pitch bids his time while he collects his strength.

Shadows coiled in the dark, flicking impatiently within the night. All throughout the world they twisted and contorted, invisible to the sleeping world, waiting for the chance to manipulate the light. Fear was their energy; they could feel it’s presence in the air. 

They thought Fear was conquered; they thought Fear was gone? 

Fear can never die.

Trapped beneath the skeleton of a bed, he waited for his chance. Collect enough energy, fear, fright, and he could begin again. The blackness seemed to curl in pleasure, as if a sadistic smile were trying to paint itself within the darkness. 

Now that the children knew of his existence, it was only a matter of time before he had enough fuel to break free from his prison. Seeing is believing, after all. Already, he could smell the fear pouring off the weak little pests; The Guardians were fools to assume their charges would go unscathed. 

His shadows crawled along the streets, absorbing what was his. Lamp posts flickered out one by one as they pushed forward, strengthened by the flow of terror. Oh, how delicious. It was enough to make his mouth water and his mind groan with want.

 _Patience_ , he whispered to himself. Fear only grows with wait – and festering fear was the best kind.

Soon enough, he’d have his revenge. 

And this time, he wasn’t going to fail.

Street lights exploded. The stars themselves seemed to be blanketed by black. The night was engulfed in a deeper darkness than ever seen before, the moon defiantly glowing bright. 

No matter. 

It wasn’t the Man in the Moon he was after, anyhow.

He was after the Guardians.


	2. Fear Cannot Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack is attacked -- but by what? By who?

It was the middle of the night here in Burgess. Jack sat cross-legged in the middle of a frozen lake, eyes closed, staff laid carefully across his lap. The cold wind brushing against him was like a comforting caress to Jack. Listening to the sounds of the night, he thoroughly enjoyed the soft snow fall gently sprinkling over his pale skin and the surrounding area. Here, in this isolated little area, he felt safe – here he felt happy.

Not that he wasn’t happy in general; the world was saved, Pitch was gone. He was a Guardian. People _believed_ in him. He was ecstatic, he really was! He just wondered what would happen now that his 15 minutes of fame were over – if the Guardians would go back to their workshop and palace and hole and just...work until the next threat arose. Is that how this gig worked? 

His doubts were probably irrational, but being alone for over 300 years can give you some abandonment issues. Now that he knew North and Sandy and Tooth and Bunnymund, he couldn’t honestly say he wasn’t more grateful for their acknowledgement of him than his induction into their child protection club. They kind of grew on him – even Bunny.

It’s only been a few weeks, but things were already starting to look up.  No more nightmares, no more missing memories. Not quite back to normal yet, but getting there. He remembers the night rather well – it was hard to forget the night where Jamie finally saw him, Sandy came back from… where ever he was, Pitch was shoved back into his pit, and he took the oath to guard all the children of the world against danger. No matter how many times he says it, it still seems too good to be true. 

The sleigh ride back to North’s was quick and noisy, all the Guardians celebrating their victory. Bunny, though still uncomfortable, was able to distract himself to a degree where he wasn’t cowering behind his big ears. Jack remembers wanting to ride the wind, but feeling too exhausted to try.

 He felt the bruise along his temple from where Pitch threw him against a dumpster and winced. He was _still_ tired and sore. 

When they arrived back at the North Pole, an air of relief and fatigue had washed over them all (almost letting Fear rule the world would do that). Jack remembers the proud, but heavy steps of North as he pushed his way through the doors, only to be swamped by yetis and elves. They congratulated us in their gruff yeti-language (who no one but North seemed to understand) and almost painful pats on the back.

He remembers heading towards the Globe room, smiling as he saw all the shining lights. A silence that followed their entrance – not awkward, but nice. Flashes of Sandy conjuring above his head _ZZZ_ ’s to show us he needed to deliver his dreams to the rest of the world, Bunny agreeing, needing to head home, reminding us all of the damage wrought upon Warren. 

There was still a huge mess to clean up. At that memory, Jack couldn’t help but feel exceptionally guilty, here; out in the middle of the night instead of helping to clean up the mess he’d accidentally created. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. A squeak echoed at his ear and a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Baby-Tooth, who had become an almost permanent shadow of his, seemed to know what he was thinking about. She rubbed against his cheek in comfort, immediately snuggling back into the hood of his hoodie in an attempt to keep warm. 

The quiet howl of the wind was the only thing heard throughout the area as Jack took a silent breath in. As he was breathing out, he felt a subtle shift in the falling snow. The temperature seemed to drop of its own accord. As an uncomfortable chill traveled down Jack’s spine, the hair on the back of his neck prickled. 

He froze, sitting up straight. Something was here…he scanned the area furtively, alert for danger, but almost as soon as it came, the chill disappeared. A lingering feeling of being watched, however, was left behind.

_Paranoia?_ He wondered. He held back an exasperated laugh; since when was he so wound up? _Pitch is gone, powerless. The world is safe and there is no need to worry_ …He forced himself to relax, lowering his eyes to glance upon the knotted staff clutched in his hands. He’s been practicing using his powers without it. Not much progress has been made, but he was starting to get the hang of it. After Pitch broke it, Jack had really started to see just how vulnerable the weapon was – and just how weak he was without it. He was eager to learn the ways of the weather with _out_ his staff. 

Just as he was about to put his staff down, he felt it again. This _moving_ presence through the snow – he was _not_ imagining this. Leaping into the air with the help of the wind, he held his staff in front of him. 

“Whose there?” he barked, taking in the surrounding forest. He was starting to thinking that the isolation wasn’t such a good thing anymore. Out of the corner of his eye, Jack thinks he sees something, but when he whips his head in that direction, there is nothing. Again, he turns, his heartbeat speeding up as he anticipates an attack. He sees that _something_ again. He faces it and stiffens as his eyes are drawn to the edge of the shadows casted by the trees. 

Long shadow tendrils are emerging from the border of the forest. Immediately, Jack blasts the ground with ice. All around they seemed to be slinking towards him, not even making a mark on the snow-covered ice. _How can this even be happening?_ Jack thought. _Is_ -

His thought was cut short as a shadow shot forward and wound around his ankle. He yelped and smashed the ground with his staff, trying to dislodge the creature and its painful grip on his leg. It snapped back towards the edge of the trees shadows. Jack winced as it left, feeling a prick of pain where its hold on him had been.

Another shadow came from behind him and slithered up his back, much to his surprise. He blindly swung his staff behind him as the shadow brushed against the collar of his hoodie. He tried to reach up with his free hand and yank it off when another looped around his arm, holding it in place with surprising strength.  Jack cried out in frustration as he swung madly with his weapon, freezing some shadows into snow. Not enough of them though.

They seemed to have no end – they just kept coming and coming, surrounding him. He couldn’t fight them all, especially now that his staff lay on the ground next to him, ripped out of his hand. He said he made progress working without his staff, but the panic flowing through him prevented him from focusing long enough to try it now. 

Instead, he jumped in the air, willing the winds to help him escape with a grunt of exertion. Unfortunately, nothing more than a breeze was conjured, and the tendrils crawled further up his body and pulled him down so that he lay on the ice, completely at their mercy.  

Struggling was useless, he knew, but he put up a fight anyway. He yelled into the night, but he didn’t think anyone could hear him. A flash of green caught his eye and his eyes darted towards it. _Baby-Tooth_. She needed to get out of here before she got hurt. “Go—” he hissed as the shadows sliced through his clothes and ripped into his skin. “Baby-Tooth, go!”

Jack didn’t wait and see if she listened. He shuddered as the shadows crawled over and around him. It felt like a dozen people were grabbing at him with sharp nails. Just as they were about to suffocate him, a weak laughter started echoing off the trees, faint as if from the opposite end of a tunnel.

“Do I sense fear, Jack?” Pitch whispered menacingly. His voice seemed to stab into his ears, despite it sounding weak and distant. 

“Pitch!” Jack growled, renewing his efforts to escape. “How did you—”

“Miss me?” he interrupted, almost seductively. Another laugh escaped Pitch. “I certainly missed _you_.”

Jack gritted his teeth in disgust – he could almost _hear_ the smile in his voice. “Let me go!”

“Now, now, Jack. Be patient.” He paused, as if waiting for Jack to reply. “I want you to do something for me.  I want you—”

“I’m not doing anything for you, Pitch.”

“Still the charmer, I see. If you want me to let you go, you’ll listen like a good little boy and do what you’re told.”

It took all of Jack’s will not to retort back. The shadows were pressing against him with increasing strength, as if they were trying to break the thick barrier of frozen water underneath him. 

“Good,” Pitch purred, “I want you, Jack, to remember this moment. Remember the fear I can taste _seeping_ out of your pores. Spread the word; Fear is not dead. Fear cannot die. Can you do that, Jack?” His voice was mocking.

The shadow tendrils started to constrict around Jack, cutting off his air supply. He choked in response. 

“Tell the others that Pitch sends his regards.”

Then the voice was gone. Then the shadows were gone. Then his vision was gone. 


	3. Embrace of Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack wakes up after his struggle with the shadows -- Tooth finds him.

Urgent squeaking filled the caverns of Jack’s slowly awakening brain. It grated at his nerves and he groaned in a weak attempt to get it to stop. 

It didn’t. _What is that?_ he thought groggily.

Soft flutters against his cheek joined the piping little noises. Soft like feathers… _Oh. Baby-Tooth. What’s…?_ The thought trailed off as the fairy rammed into his forehead with a relatively insistent huff. His eyes fluttered open. Upon seeing the young spirit’s bright blue eyes, Baby-Tooth flew right in his line of vision and seemed to be asking questions with a series of high-pitched chirps and squeaks.  

“Whoa, whoa there Baby-Tooth,” Jack soothed over her squeals, “calm down.” He raised his arms in an attempt to placate the tiny creature when he stiffened. His arms were all cut up…

Jack shot upright, a strangled gasp escaping his lips as he remembered the shadows.  He tried to take in his surroundings, but dizziness took over so he held his head in his hands and breathed long and deep.

More alarmed squeaking entered his ears as Baby-Tooth tried to burrow her way under Jack’s hands. He lifted his head when the momentary spell of lightheadedness passed. Doing a once over, he checked the area for any signs of Pitch. Everything looked completely normal…besides the tracks he himself had made when he struggled to escape the shadows, and the blood-stained snow that lay around him. A small breath of relief found its way up Jack’s throat when he noticed no other signs of the evil, and he raised his arms to survey the damage.

He winced as he saw the many rips in his clothing, each tear bordered by a stain of blood. He had some all over his body - around his ankles, chest, arms, and he suspected he had some on his back. Everywhere the shadows had gripped him, there were cuts. Fingering one of the rips, he pulled the torn fabric away from his skin where the dried blood had glued it and studied the cut that lay beneath it. They were shallow cuts, more like scratches, he determined from the scabs he could already see forming on some, but that didn’t mean they didn’t sting like hell. 

“What time is it?” he asked Baby-Tooth, who had ceased her squeaking and had settled softly on his shoulder. It was light now, and Jack wondered how long he’d been unconscious. She shrugged her little shoulders and shivered. He smiled slightly and just as he was about to get up, he heard the snaps of branches and his head whipped in the direction it was coming from. With a quick sweep of the ground, his eyes located his staff - it lay a few feet off to his left – and he scrambled over to get it, ignoring the painful twinges in his knees as he scraped them over the ice. 

Weapon in hand, he vaulted to his feet and poised it, ready to attack. Baby-Tooth was complaining again, and he looked at her to see that she was shaking her head. The rustling in the forest was getting closer, and he again held his staff at the ready. Baby-Tooth flew off his shoulder and zoomed into the trees.

“Baby-Tooth!” Jack yelled in surprise, about to follow the fairy when she suddenly popped back in the clearing. “Get away from there!” he hissed nervously as the he could see the bushes move from right behind her. She shook her head in defiance again, but before Jack could warn her, Tooth flew through the foliage. 

Dumbfounded, Jack lowered his staff and, brilliantly, said, “Tooth?” She had a leaf or two stuck between her bright blue and green feathers. 

She gasped as she saw Jack and was suddenly by his side. “Oh, Jack! Are you okay?! What did you do?” Her forehead scrunched in worry as she flew around him with dizzying speed, lifting his arms and checking all of his wounds. 

“Hey!” Jack yelled, trying to keep his balance as she lifted his foot and almost made him fall. “Tooth, stop!” She stopped her ministrations and hovered in front of him. 

“I’m fine – they’re just scratches – but we need go to North.”

Tooth’s expression didn’t change from worried as she said, “Of course, but what happened? Was it a wolf? They have the _sharp_ est teeth –”

“No, I don’t even think wolves can _see_ us.” He felt a little indignant that she thought he might be overpowered by some _dogs_. “It was Pitch,” he continued. “We need to warn the others.”

“ _Pitch?_ But that’s im _possible_! Right?” 

“Apparently not. Now, C’mon!” Jack felt the wind push under his feet and lift him effortlessly in the air. Tooth was not far behind as they headed towards the North Pole. 


	4. Regards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Guardians discuss what happened and try to understand what it all means.

“So you’re telling me,” Bunnymund paused, brows furrowing deeper and deeper as he made sense of the information, “that Pitch is back.” 

On any other circumstances, Jack might have smirked at the expression on his face. “I don’t know how, though.” He winced slightly as a yeti swiped an alcohol wipe across a particularly nasty cut on his back. “Whoa, take it easy back there,” he jested, trying to lighten the mood with some sarcasm.

The attempt failed miserably. He got a grumble in response and he was sure he felt the hard eyes of the nurse yeti boring into the back of his neck for a few moments.

“Are you sure it was Pitch, Jack?” North’s deep Russian accent boomed from across the room. “I’ve known Pitch for a long time now. He specializes in fear, not pain.” His blue eyes narrowed in thought. “I did not think he was capable of such…methods?” It was a question, and he glanced towards the others to see if they had thought the same thing.

“It was Pitch – I’m sure of it.” Baby Tooth, who was currently hovering above Tooth’s left shoulder, set off on a series of squeaks as if to confirm his statement.

“Well, did you _see_ him?” Bunnymund asked. 

“Yes…err...no. Not exactly.”

“What do you mean, ‘not exactly’?” North said. “Did you see shadow of Pitch?”

“No – no, I heard him. He was talking to me…and shadows were attacking me.” He glanced down at his arm, newly bandaged with crisp white gauze. 

“But that doesn’t mean he’s back,” Tooth chirped from where she was beside Jack. With an angry look from him, she added, “I mean, maybe it was just a last ditch effort to save himself…”

Right before he commented on how ridiculous that sounded, he realized she had a point. But he still didn’t think that was the case.

“Yeah, but if you’d _heard_ him, you might think something else.”

“Well, what did he say, Mate?” Everyone leaned closer.

Jack closed his eyes and brought the conversation with Pitch to the forefront of his mind. He told them how Pitch wanted him to remember fear – he specifically didn’t say that it was _his_ fear he had to remember – and that, “Pitch sends his regards.”

Silence permeated the room. He looked at Sandy to see if he had anything to add – he was silently fuming with clenched fists by his side – but there were no signs of communication coming from him.

“So,” Jack probed, tired of the silence, “What are we going to do?”

“I do not yet know,” North grumbled. He placed one had on his brown leather belt while stroking his beard with the other.

“Let’s get him while he’s down! You said he sounded weak – why not find him and fry the whacker*?”

“How are we going to find him?”

“We’ll follow the shadows.”

Jack took a deep breath. “I don’t know…”

Bunny gave him a look that bordered accusatory. “C’mon! What’s the problem?”

“Just think about, Bunny! If this is him when he’s _weak_ , what’ll he be like when we find him?” He jerked his head down, gesturing quite clearly to his cuts up arms.

“That’s even more reason to go now – before he gets any stronger.” He had his boomerang in his hand, motioning with it as he spoke.

“But don’t you get that this is probably exactly what he _wants_?” Jack scowled at the Easter Bunny. “He deliberately let me go – he _told_ me to find you.” The volume of his voice lowered. “We’re more likely than not going to be walking straight into a trap.”

Sandy chose this moment to pitch in (pun not intended). Golden sand flowed above his head, speeding through images that Jack could barely keep up with. The others, however, seemed to understand better. Maybe translating sand-talk gets easier the longer you’re Guardian.

“Huh?”

“That is an excellent point, my friend!” North bellowed, clapping his large hands together in emphasis, ignoring the confused boy.

“What did he say?” He hated being the clueless one of the bunch.

“He says we should look to _where_ he is getting his source of power from.”

“And that would be–”

“The children!” Tooth yelled. “You don’t think he’d hurt the children, do you?”

Jack stiffened. He hadn’t thought of that at all…Pitch knows exactly who to go after to hurt him, and exactly where to find him. 

Jamie.

Please, dear Man in the Moon, please don’t let Jamie have been harmed; don’t let _any_ of the children be hurt. 

“I need to go check on him,” he announced. He got to his feet, ignored the huffed protest of the yeti who had just cleaned a cut on his bicep, and grabbed his staff. 

North placed a hand on his shoulder. “Hold a moment, Jack.” Jack tried to shake it off, but he just steered him back into his spot sitting on the edge of a bed. “We will all go – but you must rest for now and wait for your cuts to be cleaned and covered.”

“I’m fine,” he groaned in annoyance. A few stupid scratches and suddenly everyone treats him like a vulnerable kid. “But Jamie might _not_ be.”

“You’re almost done, Jack. Please just wait a few minutes.” Tooth was helping the yeti cut a strip of cloth. 

“Stay here.” North said, almost like a warning. “I’ll go ready the sleigh.”

North left the room without waiting for a response and Jack rolled his eyes in defeat. 

He can’t honestly say that he didn’t _some_ what enjoy their attention. Three Hundred years worrying about one-self can get boring. This was all new to him, though, and while the selfish, curious part of him (a really small part) wanted to kick back and let them dote upon him, the rational, more Jack-like side of him knew that there were bigger, more important things at hand and wanted to warn everybody with a threat to freeze them where they stood.

He sat there, watching the elves in the corner patching up his sweatshirt. They might suck at making toys…but this was no different. He was already grimacing at the bright red and green thread they used to sew up the tears in the blue fabric. 

What he couldn’t stop wondering about was _why_. He was obviously supposed to be a warning to the other Guardians – but why? Why warn them of his return to existence? Why not keep them all in the dark with a false sense of safety?

What was Pitch up to?

Jack was almost sweating in anxiety. Or maybe it was the almost suffocating warmth of North’s workshop that had him fidgeting. Either way, he couldn’t sit here idly much longer. The yeti finally finished wrapping the bigger gashes up and Jack yanked his hoodie away from the hands of the elves. He would definitely have to get a different sweater. Oddly enough, the moment it was over his head, he felt cooler.  

Soon, North came crashing through the door, announcing the sleigh’s readiness and they all made their way down to the stables.

First order of business: Burgess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Whacker: Idiot; somebody who talks drivel; somebody with whom you have little patience (Australian slang)


End file.
